


Ante

by onceuponachildhood



Series: Alder - the Harper Shepard story [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Paragade (Mass Effect), Pre-Canon, Shepard as Anderson's Daughter AU, character tags to be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponachildhood/pseuds/onceuponachildhood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at youth, at choices, at growth. Harper Shepard before the military.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stability is important.

* * *

 

 

> **March, 2166 CE  
>  age 11**

Harper stared out at the stars.

The starboard observation area was quiet around this time on the ship. Mid-shift, so anyone who was going to come relax had already done so or wouldn’t be doing so until after they were relieved from duty. The stars were comforting, in their own way. Space was so vast, so expansive, and all those stars could hold entire systems’ worth of life. None of them cared if she was tired, or angry, or bitter. The cosmos was indifferent to the struggles of a preteen girl. It shouldn’t have been comforting, but it was. So she came to the observation deck when she was upset. The window was a little high off the deck, but Harper had learned within a week of her mother being posted here that she could use the back of the seats as a boost. She liked to climb up and tuck herself away in the windowsill when she needed to think. She could pull her knees up, wrap her arms around her ribs, and stare at the stars. Nobody bothered her here.

At the sound of a familiar booted stride, Harper amended her thought to _almost_ nobody.

The woman that had walked up said nothing at first. Instead, she crossed her arms and leaned against the sill to look out at the stars. Harper took the opportunity to look her over. _Her_ being the one and only Lieutenant Commander Hannah Shepard. She was a beautiful woman. Her hair was inky black, black like the space between systems, and its long silky expanse was braided into a crown around Hannah’s head. Her almond eyes were nearly as dark, brown but searching and sharp as a knife. The light from the stars reflected in them; they looked like glittering obsidian. Hannah’s cheekbones were high and strong, doing nothing to soften her appearance. She looked honed. Precise. Military. She was beautiful, and Harper wondered if she would ever be that pretty. When she’d had her fill of looking, she sighed. It would be easier to look at the stars, so she did. The stars were beautiful, too, but they were cold. Cold and impersonal and unfeeling. The stars didn’t care about Harper. Hannah Shepard did. “Mom. What are you doing here?”

“You going to believe me if I say stargazing?”

Harper snorted. “No.”

“Private Laflamme said you looked a little pensive today.” Harper snorted again. Right. Orden was a great guy, said Harper reminded him of his little sister, but definitely not the type of guy to use the word pensive. “Okay, his exact words were ‘Harper looks madder than a hornet’s nest at a birthday party,’ but the idea was there.”

“Sounds like him.”

Hannah shifted so that her shoulder bumped against Harper’s drawn-up knees. “Are you madder than a hornet’s nest at a birthday party? Or is it something else?”

“Something else,” Harper said, trying and probably failing for an even tone.

Hannah turned to look at her daughter, but Harper didn’t look back. Her gaze was locked firmly on something outside the window. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah.” Harper didn’t, not really, but more because she didn’t want to hurt her mom rather than having any second thoughts.  They both sat in silence a moment. “I’m supposed to be moving up from primary school this year,” she said.

Hannah hmmed. “Not having second thoughts, are you? We both know you’re ready. Your instructor said you’re ready.”

Harper shook her head. “I’m not having second thoughts, mom. I actually kinda wish you’d let me move up a year early when he’d suggested it.” But that wasn’t what was on her mind, so she let the old argument go. Dealing with two issues at once was going to make talking harder. Better to focus on one and get her thoughts out. “But that’s not the problem.” There wasn’t any problem, really, just Harper’s fierce dislike of making her mom sad. Harper swallowed. “I’d like to go to a real school,” she managed to choke out.

“I just got this posting,” Hannah said softly. “I’m not even able to get leave for a couple more weeks, much less transfer again.”

Harper’s grip on her own shirt tightened. “Dad has a place on the Citadel.”

“You want to go live with your father.” Hannah’s tone was indecipherable. Her expression would have helped to puzzle it out, but Harper didn’t want to look.

“I want to make some friends my age,” Harper argued, and tried not to sound like she was whining. “I love being on ships and traveling and seeing the galaxy, mom. I love _you_. But I want to be able to go see a vid with my friends after class. I want to have a study group. I…”

“Harper.” Hannah shifted, again, until her grip was careful and firm on Harper’s knee. “Sweetheart, look at me.” The last time Hannah had called her sweetheart was when their shuttle had been shot at and Harper had to go to the med bay. A bullet wound at nine was no small issue. Hannah only ever called her sweetheart when Harper’s well-being was the number one issue on her mind, and nothing could stand in the way of setting her little girl’s world to rights. Harper looked up. Her mom’s smile was soft, and a little sad, but it was there. “You’re allowed to want those things, Harper. That’s perfectly normal. I’ll call your father first thing tomorrow morning.”

Harper knew how much her mom missed her when she went to visit her dad. But she wouldn’t let that get in the way of Harper being happy. Of course she wouldn’t. Hannah Shepard was everything Harper wanted to be when she grew up. Beautiful and badass and the best mom anyone could want. Tears pricked at her eyes, and rather than start crying she unfolded to embrace her mom in a tight hug. Hannah hugged back just as tightly.

* * *

 


	2. paramour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no crash course on cross-species etiquette.

 

* * *

 

 

> **August, 2167 CE**  
>  **age 13**

Harper shifted her backpack and closed her locker with a snap. “And, what, you don’t think that it’s exciting?” Tanaquil shook her head. “Not even a little?”

“Everyone in the Hierarchy goes into the military at fifteen, Harper. It’s not exciting, it just… is.”

Harper sighed. “Yeah, but still. You get to go so much sooner. I have to wait until I’m eighteen!”

“Humans are squishier.” Tanaquil snickered.

“I might be squishy but I’m still in the lead for track.” Harper grinned as Tanaquil groaned; they’d had a friendly competition going for weeks, and the human had finally pulled back ahead in P.E.

One of the girls from their class took a step into their path. It was Edlyn, one of the few elcor in the Academy. “Tentatively, can I talk to you for a moment, Harper?” Harper stopped, Tanaquil at her elbow. Edlyn looked over at the turian. “Apologetically, alone.”

“Oh, okay.” Tanaquil glanced between the two with a raised brow plate. “I’ll… see you for study group tomorrow?”

Harper nodded. “Yeah. Remind Dooriya she’s in charge of snacks this week.”

Tanaquil walked off with a wave, and then it was just the two of them in the hallway. “So, Edlyn, what’d you want to talk about?”

“Contextually, there is a dance coming up on the school calendar. Most students ask a date to accompany them.” Edlyn shuffled her two front limbs. “Shyly, would you like to go with me? Clarifying, as my date.”

Harper felt her cheeks heating. She’d been so focused on her lessons with her dad and taking first in her physical classes that she’d forgotten about the dance at all. And now she was being asked by an elcor! They were usually entirely too subtle for humans. _Edlyn asked **me**_ , Harper thought, and despite her burning cheeks she leaned against the wall and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Well, at least her first school dance wouldn’t be alone. Her preteen heart warmed to think that someone wanted to be her date. She smiled at Edlyn. “Gladly.”

“Surprised, you really mean it? Cautiously, there are many humans that like to make fun of me.”

Hot fury flashed through Harper for a second, but she tamped it down. She reached out and laid a hand on Edlyn’s shoulder - thankfully it was a gesture just as friendly and innocent to most other species as it was to humans. “Sincerely,” she said, tone blessedly even, “I would love to go to the dance with you.” That wasn’t enough, and Harper felt like a right tit even saying this, but she wanted to get her point across no matter how dangerously close to some weird levo version of _Fleet and Flotilla_ that this was beginning to feel. “Flirtatiously, I’d like to get to know you better.”

“Optimistically, would you like to exchange omni-tool information?” Edlyn asked.

Harper pulled her own up. “Delighted, yes. Giddily, I’ll message you later.”

They exchanged information and Harper headed for the doors. She could barely contain herself in the rapid transit line. She had a date. Oh, her friends were not gonna believe this.

* * *

“I don’t believe this!” Dooriya slammed her hands down onto the table as hard as she could without drawing her dad’s attention. Her dad was a semi-famous drell chef and so he was usually in the kitchen; startling him while he had a knife in hand wasn’t a great idea. “I don’t believe this.”

“She asked you to the dance? Really?” Tanaquil’s subvocals warbled in surprise.

“Really,” Harper said.

Brian, the other human of their study group, snorted. “Did you let her down easy?”

Harper’s cheeks grew hot.  She tried to answer but found that she couldn’t, and instead ducked her head and reached up to brush hair from her face. “I don’t believe this,” Dooriya said again. “You said yes, didn’t you?!”

“An _elcor_?” Brian asked, at the same time Tanaquil asked, “A _girl_?”

The room fell silent. Brian and Tanaquil avoided her gaze. Dooriya blinked rapidly. Harper herself looked between the two of them, her stomach hot and heavy as lead. How do you ask your friends if they find you as disgusted as they had just sounded? She didn’t know.

Dooriya, thankfully, patted Harper’s arm before speaking. “Do you have a problem with elcor, Goyle?”

Brian frowned. “No, they’re alright. It’s just… shouldn’t you date in your own species?”

“The asari seem to have no trouble dating other races,” Harper snapped.

“Yeah, but they can mate with them. Elcor and humans can’t…” his cheeks, too, turned red, “you and her couldn’t…”

“Don’t be crass,” Tanaquil said, mandibles tight to her face.

He floundered for a moment before responding. “I’m not the only one who said something.”

“Tanaquil?” Dooriya asked softly. “Something to add?”

“Something wrong?” Brian added, still frowning.

Her brow plates twitched and she let out an even breath before saying “no.” Tanaquil shook her head. “I was just startled, is all. It’s not as common from the colony I’m from. You’re well within your rights to date whoever you please.” She met Harper’s gaze and tried for a grin. “As long as you’ll still share the juicy gossip with me.”

“Yes!” Dooriya grabbed both girls’ hands. “You’ll have to tell us all the details.”

Brian went “ugh” but the tension had bled from the room and he smiled too.

* * *

 


	3. destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the age-old question: what do you want to be when you grow up?

> **May, 2168 CE**   
>  **age 14**

Harper’s scalp tickled as her hair slipped between Tanaquil’s talons. “Dammit!” The curse was low, and flanged, and filled with the frustration that Tanaquil often got if she didn’t immediately perfect something. Tanaquil bounced slightly on the bed. “Your hair is difficult to grip,” she complained. “It’s too-” whatever she said, Harper’s translator didn’t catch.

From the quizzical tilt to Dooriya’s head, Harper wasn’t the only one confused. The drell blinked a few times before speaking. “It’s very silky.”

Tanaquil huffed. “Silky, yes. That works too.”

Harper grinned, pleased. “Mom’s hair is like this,” she said. Her mother’s hair was one of the most beautiful things Harper had ever seen.

“I’ve seen the pictures,” Dooriya gestured around Harper’s room, her pink-painted nails glittering in the light. “You look so much like her.”

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Tanaquil added, letting Harper’s hair tumble down around her shoulders.

Harper’s grin only widened and she tipped her head back to look at her friend. “Here, Tana, let me finish the braid and we’ll paint your nails next.”

“Start the braid, more like,” Dooriya sing-songed.

Tanaquil groaned and pretended to be angry, but her mandibles flared wide and loose in a smile. “You don’t have any hair either. I’d like to see you do better.”

“Alright.” Without preamble, Dooriya came over and dropped down into Tanaquil’s lap.

There was a flurry of movement behind Harper. A foot pressed into her back once or twice but she was too busy laughing to scramble out of the way. Tanaquil finally settled with a grumble and Dooriya’s fingers were quick to make their way to Harper’s hair. Harper was interested to know how well Dooriya could braid with fused fingers.

“That’s not a braid.” Tanaquil’s subvocals shot upward inquisitively, much like humans ended questions at a higher register than when they started.

Dooriya’s motions were fast and practiced, and her fingertips felt lovely on Harper’s scalp. “Is too.” Harper could feel the braid resting along the crown of her head, tight to the scalp without pinching. “It’s called a french braid.”

“I didn’t know you can french braid,” Harper said softly. “I don’t even know how to french braid.”

Dooriya laughed. “I’m going to work for Sha’ira when I graduate, so it’s something I’m expected to know.”

“You never mentioned that before.”

Dooriya didn’t even pause her braiding. “Delanynder owes the Consort a favor,” she explained evenly, “and under the Compact I’m going to fulfill his debt.”

Harper frowned. “That doesn’t bother you? That you’re being used to pay someone else’s debt?”

“That sounds suspiciously like slavery,” Tanaquil grumbled.

“No no no!” Dooriya’s hands were swift and skilled, and the braid was done. She let her fingers fall to rest in her lap. “The hanar saved my people from extinction! And Delan himself brought my father and I to the Citadel, that the atmosphere would be less humid and we’d have healthier lives.” Harper leaned back against the bed and she could feel Tanaquil and Dooriya behind her. Dooriya sighed. “It’s considered a great honor to be asked to serve under the Compact.” There was a moment of silence, and then Dooriya added, in a much lighter tone, “And it’s a pretty cushy job, working for the Consort. Maybe you military types don’t get it-”

Tanaquil shoved Dooriya off her lap and onto Harper with a quiet but fond “You’re impossible.”

Harper bore Dooriya’s weight comfortably. “Watch it, or this _military type_ might have to deliver a serious asskicking.” The girls dissolved into giggles.


	4. Chapter 4

> **July, 2169 CE**   
>  **age 15**

Harper walked through the busier streets of Zakera Ward, trying not to scowl. She was being followed. Dad had warned her - don’t go to Zakera by yourself. Except she hadn’t been by herself, had she? No, she’d gone to a vid with Dirk Azeno, and dad definitely didn’t like him. Dirk had tried to put his hand up her shirt even when she said no and Harper had probably broken one of his fingers. She’d stormed out of the vidhouse and headed home alone. And now she was being followed. She’d tried cutting through crowds and lines to lose the guy, but he’d stuck to her with the skill of a practiced thief. Harper cast her eyes around for help; an off-duty soldier, a C-Sec officer,  _ somebody _ , but this ward was usually emptier during the day.

_ Better the devil you know than the one you don’t _ , her mother’s voice whispered in her mind.

She’d been training for years. Some of her classmates had already left to join the military. The turian ones, at least, but the thought did settle her. She was fifteen. She’d been training in hand-to-hand for years. She could handle this. Harper slipped into an alley, hoping the guy hadn’t seen her and all this mental preparation was going to stay theoretical.

The guy stepped into the alley and drew a pistol. He looked dirty and ragged, half-healed scars barely hidden by his shoddy clothes. “Alright, sweetheart, hand over your credit chit, nice and easy.”

She held up her hands placatingly. “I don’t have one with me,” she lied. “I was on a date.”

“Nobody goes anywhere without a credit chit, princess.” Her nose wrinkled. “Just hand it over and I don’t have to waste a bullet on you, yeah?”

Behind him, Harper saw a flash of familiar blue in the crowd. C-Sec. Back-up. She could safely make a move. She let her gaze go obviously over his shoulder, her eyes widening. He turned - apparently not that much of a practised criminal, if something like that could fool him - and with her heart in her throat she lunged forward. She made sure to grab his wrist and force his arm upward first; thankfully, because in his shock he pulled the trigger. Harper didn’t weigh much but the surprise and the speed of her body was enough to get the guy on the ground. She pinched the tender skin of his wrist so that he yelped and dropped the gun. It was easy to kick it away. The would-be mugger threw her off. She bounced off a nearby wall hard enough that her vision swam. He scrambled for the gun.

“Freeze.”

At least he was smart enough to do that. Harper groaned, hands carefully cradling the back of her head, but she stayed still as well. An asari officer strode forward and confiscated the gun from the mugger. She cuffed him with a practiced efficiency that made Harper a little jealous. Even asari  _ police _ were graceful. The other officer, a stern-looking turian, turned to her. “I’m Officer Vakarian. How badly are you hurt?”

“Gonna have a headache for a while,” Harper replied. She hoped she wasn’t slurring. It wasn’t that bad of a head wound, really. “Not so badly that I can’t make a statement.”

Vakarian nodded, expression… something. If she’d learned anything from her classmates, it was almost approving. “We’ll take you back to C-Sec academy. Your guardian can pick you up there.”

Oh, dad was going to kill her.

* * *

Harper looked up when her dad walked into the room. His shoulders were straight, his back stiff, and his composed face barely concealed the fury behind his expression. She wasn’t quite looking at dad. She was looking at Commander David Anderson. His eyes checked over the bandages before he spoke. “What were you doing in Zakera Ward?  _ Alone _ ?”

Yep. Definitely dead. She was dead meat. A dead woman talking. “I had a date.” Harper swallowed. “With Dirk.”

“Azeno?” The fury in his voice was clear enough that even Officer Vakarian turned to look. She nodded. “And he didn’t walk you home?”

Harper trembled, more than a little angry herself. “When he didn’t want to take no for an answer I broke his damn finger and left.”

Some of the anger - at least, at her - drained from her dad’s face. “Harper-”

“I’m fine, dad. Really.”

David watched her for a moment and Harper stared right back. Perfect she was not; her parents usually let her make her own mistakes and live with them. After a long, tense moment, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Startled, Harper carefully hugged him back. “You were shot at,” he murmured.

“Not the first time,” she replied. She thought about her parents, both officers in the Alliance. She thought about other girls, who wouldn’t have been able to break a grabby teen’s fingers. Who wouldn’t have been able to get a gun away from a mugger. “Probably won’t be the last, either.”

David pulled back, looking at her face as though it could tell him her thoughts. “Officer Vakarian, is she free to go?” He spoke to the turian but his eyes never left his daughter.

“She is.”

“Thank you.” He straightened back up. “Gotta get her home for the worst grounding of her life.”

Harper didn’t flinch. She’d broken her dad’s rules. Grounding was going to be miserable, especially with the school dance so close, but it wasn’t like she’d have a date for it anymore or anything. Carefully, she stood. “Sir yes sir.”

His expression softened a little more. “Let’s go home, kid. You can tell your mother what happened.”   
Harper was  _ so dead _ .


End file.
